Redemption: Triple R Security, Book 3

by Imogen Wells

  “Okay, Max, I need you to stay in this room and be very quiet. Can you do that for me?” He nods. “You stay in here and don’t come out no matter what you hear. I will come and get you when it’s safe. Do you understand.”

  “Is it like hide and seek? Because Uncle Seb says I’m the best at it.”

  “Just like hide and seek,” I say with a smile. I move Max over to the sink and get him to sit beneath it. Reaching forward, I give him a hug, kissing the top of his head, and tell him again to stay here quietly till I come for him.

  I take one last look at him before I close the door and quickly get to work on removing the handle. It might not have a lock, and although this won’t keep anyone out forever, it will make it harder and take longer as they’ll have to break the door down. I just have to pray that Max doesn’t open the door from the inside. God, I hope this fucking works.

  I shove the back plate beneath the bed before pulling the spindle free. The gap beneath the door is just big enough for the spindle to fit under, and I give it a push, sliding it out of reach.

  I put the pocketknife in my back pocket out of sight and sit on the bed. Now I wait.

  Another crash comes from downstairs, followed by a holler of pain as feet thud on the stairs.

  The key turns in the lock, and I thank God the bathroom door is at the far end of the room and out of sight of whoever is coming in.

  The door opens to reveal a man of around my height, and whilst he’s muscular, he isn’t much bigger than me in size. His hair is long and black, tied back at the nape of his neck and looks like it’s been washed in a vat of oil.

  “Where’s the boy, puta?” he spits the words as he steps into the room, and I see he’s not alone. Behind him a slightly smaller, younger man, or boy is better suited, with the same long black hair moves into position next to him. This one is carrying a navaja and spins it confidently in his hand.

  Keeping a rein on my emotions, I say, “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him since I arrived. They kept us separated.” I throw a little hitch in my voice to make them think I’m afraid, but in reality, I’m anything but.

  The bigger one of the two men strides toward me, snatching me by the hair and tilting my head back to look at him from my seated position on the bed.

  “Eres Mentirosa! You are a liar.”

  I try to shake my head, but his grip on my hair tightens, stinging painfully at my scalp. I see from the corner of my eye that the younger guy is now casting an inquisitive eye around the room. Shit.

  “I’m not lying. I don’t know where he is.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he releases my hair and strikes my face with the back of his hand. The hit forces my head to the right, and as I wait out the stinging pain to my cheek, I note the younger guy’s attention is now back on us.

  I push down the urge to strike him back, needing to wait for the right moment. It will come, and when it does, I’ll be fucking ready.

  I have a lot to fight for.

  His hand rises to strike me again but is stopped short when a yell from below carries up the stairs.

  “Bring her here, Alesandro.”

  Dropping his hand, I breathe a fake sigh of relief and let out a small whimper to keep up the pretence. I think he’s going to turn away, but instead, his other hand comes up and grips my face.

  “On your feet,” he says, tightening his grip and pulling my face upwards, forcing me to my feet unless I want my head ripped from my shoulders.

  Once I’m standing, he lets go, and I force my face upwards, looking him in the eye. This time, I show him no fear, and I guess he doesn’t like it much because his hand flies out, and his fat, sweaty fingers wrap around my throat. He wastes no time in lifting me from the ground, only an inch, but it’s enough for a spike of panic to sliver up my spine as my airway is blocked off.

  A wicked gleam lights his eyes as he sees my fear return, and he lets out a throaty and full-bellied laugh before dropping me. I stumble, almost falling back onto the bed, but I manage to remain upright.

  He continues to laugh as he walks towards the door. He flicks a finger to the younger guy who comes over and takes my arm while holding the navaja beneath my chin.

  “Move an inch and your blood will spill, puta,” he whispers as he begins walking, and I have no choice but go with him.

  Some of the tension and worry eases as we exit the room and descend downstairs. I send up a silent prayer that Max is okay and stays where he is.

  We skip the office this time, and instead enter a small lounge come kitchen where the man I used to call father is on his knees with a cut to his lip, and the sight brings me a small amount of joy. Gigi is next to him with her hands clasped in front of her but unhurt.

  I haven’t missed the man standing off to the right, leaning on the mantel cleaning his nails with the tip of a small knife. His aura makes it impossible to miss him even if you don’t see him. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a crisp black shirt, untucked, that’s open at the top, showing dark chest hair. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, displaying tanned skin and several tattoos.

  “Welcome, Jessica,” he says, dark hazel eyes meeting mine as I’m led to the sofa and forced to sit. I notice that the two men of my father’s aren’t here, and I wonder if they’re dead or left. “It seems someone is missing. Where is the boy?” He looks to the man at my side, then to Alesandro, the man who hit me.

  “She was alone.” The man’s nostrils flare, and he pauses his nail cleaning, sucking his cheeks in and making his lips pout.

  “It seems we have a problem then.” He steps away from the mantel to stand behind my father. “You think you can double cross me again, cabron?” He lays his hands on my father’s shoulders, the knife still gripped in one hand.

  “He is here, Garcia. I swear it. And I told you, I didn’t fucking double cross you. But I still paid with my son’s life.” My father looks to me as he speaks, and now things are starting to make a little more sense.

  This man is the same man that Rick and the others were talking about and confirms, just as I suspected, that my father is involved in trafficking.

  “Yes, I did enjoy watching my brother work.” The smile that was gracing his face while talking about his brother killing Christian fades quickly and is replaced by something that could almost be considered sadness. “It’s a shame he won’t be here to witness my retribution.”

  His words make my skin crawl, and a sickness spread through my stomach that will be very difficult to ever heal. I know how this will end if I say these next words, but I don’t have any more fucks to give when it comes to my father. The man is the devil in disguise. In his nice suit, nice car, nice fucking mansion of a house and who holds a respected and honoured role in society that he has squandered in the name of what? More money and more power. It’s not love that makes this world go round—it’s money and what the life of one person can buy you. It’s power and how far all that blood money can take you. It’s fucking sick!

  “The boy was never here. He fucked you over—again. He’s real good at it too.”

  My mother’s head snaps to me, but it’s my father who I’m watching.

  Eyes widening in shock, then narrowing as he realises what I’ve done. His face turns a brilliant shade of red as anger takes over, but I see a hint of fear. And I bask in it.

  “You lying little bitch!” my father shouts. “He is here. Find him.”

  “Search the whole house. Rip it apart,” Garcia tells Alesandro. And I watch, my heart heavy in my chest, as Alesandro stalks out of the room.

  Garcia turns to me, his knife now held to my father’s throat. “You want to play games, bitch. Let’s play.”

  In the blink of an eye, he moves to behind my mother, yanking her head back and placing the knife against her skin. I try to jump to my feet, but I’m pulled back, and everything slows down as Garcia begins to draw the blade across my mother’s neck.

  A piercing cry breaks through my own and halts Garcia’s moveme
nts.

  “Jessica, Jessica, help me.”

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” Garcia says, as Alesandro carries Max into the room.

  Forty-One

  Rick

  “Daddy.”

  One word that stops the breath in my lungs and the beat of my heart. My vocal chords close temporarily as I try to get some air back in my lungs.

  “Max, son, are you okay?” The words burst breathily from my lips, forced through the relief at hearing his voice.

  “I’m okay, Dad.” I hear rustling on the other end before another voice speaks.

  “Mr Sullivan. Such a lovely boy you have here.”

  “Cut the crap, Collins, and tell me what you want?”

  He chuckles. “Ah, it seems that you and my daughter have been doing more than just fucking. I hope you enjoyed her while you could.” I slam my hand down on the roof of the car, and the sound echoes down the quiet street. It does nothing to alleviate my rage, and only seems to make Collins laugh more.

  “I’m not the only one on Garcia’s hit-list, Collins. Maybe you should watch your back,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, but I have something he wants. Two things actually. Have a good evening, Mr Sullivan.” The line goes dead. I almost throw the fucking thing, but Jay’s hand swipes out, stopping me.

  “Don’t. We need that.”

  I lean my hands against the roof of the car, head dropped between my shoulders, and close my eyes as the sound of my son’s voice repeatedly rings in my ears.

  There are only a handful of times in my life when I’ve felt completely out of control of myself and everything around me.

  This feeling right now, eclipses them all.

  Hopelessness is a funny word. It means lack of hope, despair, but I’m not hopeless in the sense of being useless, far from it. Do I hope I’ll get my son and Jess back unscathed? While my heart still beats and there is air in my fucking lungs I will hope.

  “Rick, we’ll get them back. I know how hard this must be for you, but—”

  My head snaps up. “Do you, Roxy? Do you really know how hard this is for me? I don’t think you could possibly understand what it’s like to hear the fear in your son’s voice while he’s being held against his will. Or what it’s like to know that the woman you love, the woman you’ve let into a heart that’s been barren for five years, a woman who should never want to speak to you, let alone love you, is in danger, hurt, in pain, dead even. I don’t think you truly understand that. Jess is my second chance at love, at being a family. She’s my redemption. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some cunt take her from me.” I yank open the car door as Jay runs around to the other side. “Tonight, there is no law and no one that will stand in my way. So, you better choose your side, Roxy, because I won’t hold back. I will get my family back, and I don’t give a flying fuck who I have to cut down to do it.” I get in, slamming the door on whatever words Roxy is saying. Gunning the engine, I pull away, leaving Roxy at the roadside.

  I blow out a deep breath and glance to Jay as I speed away.

  “Do you know where Collins lives?”

  “Yeah, I fucking do. But I don’t think he’ll be there. The man might be a dirty, corrupt wanker but he’s not stupid, Jay.” I take the slip road onto the motorway, heading towards Judge Collins’ house. “Do a search on him. Let’s see what other properties he owns. A wide one because I bet you it’s not in his name.”

  Jay nods and gets to work on his phone while I drive. With each mile, my emotions become more difficult to hold on to, my gut knots and my grip on the steering wheel tightens, turning my knuckles white.

  When Kuffs and I were being held five years ago, I physically couldn’t do anything, but I can assure you that I mapped out, in very minute detail, how I would punish those holding us. And I did. To this day, I still have no idea where the energy or strength came from for me to do what I did.

  My need for redemption isn’t solely based on not being able to save Kuffs or Sam, it’s because I became someone else when I escaped those men.

  I was inhuman.

  At that point, I didn’t know about Sam, and for that, I’m grateful because I fear I would have been lost forever if I had.

  Last year, when Ryder murdered those men at that warehouse, I couldn’t judge him for that. I had no right after what I did. I understood it. I’d lived it too.

  We all have the power to do ugly, evil things. Every day we walk a fine line between doing what’s right and what we feel we want to do. Your mind is a minefield. Each step has the possibility of setting you off.

  And we all have a breaking point. A point of no return where our mind takes over, blocking out right and wrong and letting the darkness within take control.

  I’m right back there again. Walking the line.

  Jay’s voice brings me out of my head.

  “I have two possibilities we can try after his home. If we’re lucky, maybe someone at the house knows where he is.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I say the words, but I don’t feel them.

  We travel the rest of the way in silence. The only sound is of Jay tapping away at his phone. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I leave him to it.

  When we pull up to Collins’ ridiculously extravagant and over the top house, the guard on the gate refuses us entry and claims that no one is home.

  He soon changes his mind and lets us in when Jay threatens to tell his wife how much he loves the feel of lacey underwear against his skin and being dominated by another man.

  As we enter the house, I ask Jay how he knew all that.

  “I didn’t know for sure, but the man is a member of very exclusive gay kink club in Soho. It was an educated guess.”

  I shake my head and laugh, grateful for the small reprieve from the seriousness of the situation.

  We do a quick check of the house, finding absolutely fuck all to help us. As we get back in the car, Ryder calls.

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re at Collins’, but he’s not here.” I pause for a second before saying my next words. “I spoke to Max. He’s okay, but Collins is planning to hand him and Jess over to Garcia.” Any other words I might have wanted to say get lost somewhere between my brain and my mouth.

  “Ryder, it’s Jay. Look, we have two possible locations.”

  “Give me an address, Jay, and I’m there.”

  I drive while Jay gives one address to Ryder and programs the other into the sat nav. We agree to call once we have eyes on them. I’m not sure how that will work out, but I go along with it.

  The closer we get to the house, my mind begins to throw up random snapshots of my life with Sam, with Kuffs, the torture we suffered, and I struggle to push them away. My anxiety peaks when I consider the possibility that we picked the wrong address, and we’ll never make it to the other address in time.

  I pull over, quickly jumping from the car and let out a roar as my body tries to expel the images another way.

  I hear Jay stepping from the car and coming to stand beside me.

  “I’ll drive. Come on, we’re five minutes away.”

  “What if—”

  Jay grabs my shoulders, pulling my focus to him. “Don’t you dare fucking say it, Rick. No. You will not lose them.” His words are so sure and certain that I latch onto his hope, wrapping it around my own and reinforcing it. He slaps me on the back as he walks to the driver’s side.

  I take several deep breaths before climbing back in, and we set off again.

  Without driving to distract me, my knee jigs up and down with anxiety.

  This is a me I’m not familiar with. This is a me that I don’t like. This is a me that has no control over himself and is highly unpredictable.

  The adrenaline and anxiety thrum through my veins, heating my blood to almost boiling, and I feel jacked. It’s the same feeling I used to get when we were out in the field on a mission. That quiet before the storm where anticipation builds to insane levels before final
ly flowing over as you enter the fray.

  Jay turns the lights off as we approach the turn off for the small house set back from the road and standing alone in the middle of nothing but fields.

  A buzz of electricity spikes up my body as I realise that this is the place. We picked the right address. I can feel it just like I can feel my undeniable love for Jess beneath my skin and in every beat of my heart.

  “They’re here. I can feel it, Jay.”

  Passing the turning, Jay pulls over behind a hedgerow surrounding the property so as not to be seen from anyone inside the house.

  I go to open the door, but Jay’s hand on my bicep stops me.

  “Rick, you need to wait.” I try to shake him off, but he tightens his grip. “Listen to me, man. I know this is your family, but you still need to be smart about this. You have no plan, no idea what you’re walking into, no weapons and it’s just the two of us. Put the call in to Ryder and Roxy too, then we’ll watch and wait. You need to think like a soldier Rick, like the leader you’ve always been.”

  It takes a minute but finally his words penetrate my anxiety-ridden mind. I slowly ease back into my seat, throwing my head back against the head rest.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I run my hands over my face a couple of times, then hold them there for a minute or two while I try to get my brain to be logical and not impulsive.

  Without Jay here to stop me, I would have burst into that house like a raging bull through the streets of Pamplona.

  Jay sends a message to Ryder with our location, and I send one to Roxy. Ryder sends one back telling us he’s twenty minutes away and to wait till he gets here. The last part is in big, shouty caps, and I shake my head while Jay gives me an ‘I told you so’ look.

  I don’t hear anything from Roxy, which is both a surprise and a worry.

  I look towards the house but can’t see much through the hedge. Needing a closer look, and with a promise not to do anything stupid, Jay and I climb from the car.

  “You were wrong earlier when you said I don’t have any weapons,” I whisper to Jay as he meets me at the back of the car.